Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 125077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
I felt his other hand come to rest on my lower back, warm and reassuring. Despite my embarrassment, I found myself relaxing into his touch, grateful for the comfort he offered.
“Warriors returning from a long voyage,” Sven’s voice took on a storytelling quality, rich and mesmerizing, “would reward well the service provided by their new bed thralls. Those women who pleased their masters most skillfully often found themselves elevated to positions of honor within the clan.”
His words brought back the carvings to my mind, their vivid pictures of men’s bravery and women’s subservience.
“You must learn to perform this service now,” Sven said, his voice growing firmer. “To give your bodies over even more fully to our use and our pleasure.”
His hand moved from my bottom to my thigh, and I gasped as I felt his fingers play with my still-sensitive folds. Even in the shame of my accident and feeling the ache from my earlier defloration, I sensed a new warmth building low in my belly.
“Remember that your bodies are no longer your own,” Sven continued, his touch growing more insistent. “Do not forget that all of you belong to us now, to use exactly as we see fit. Whether for our pleasure, or to tend our hearth fires, to craft the things we need.”
I blinked at his words, wondering at their implications. Surely, like this ‘voyage,’ the ‘hearth fires’ my master meant were a metaphor, but for what? Sven must intend for me to understand that I would serve the Sons of Odin in some more practical way, and my mind searched for what exactly that might imply.
Disquieting though my Herra’s words were, I found myself pressing back against Sven’s hand, seeking more of his touch. My breath came in short gasps as his fingers explored me, expertly stoking the fire of my arousal.
“That’s it, lille en,” Sven murmured approvingly. “Embrace your new role. Let go of your shame and your fear. There is only service now, only devotion to your master. In a few moments, you will have my pik in your little mouth, until you learn to make the seed come and fill your little belly. Prepare yourself for that new duty.”
CHAPTER 8
Mary
As if his words had broken some final barrier, I felt a tide of surrender wash over me. My body relaxed, yielding completely to Sven’s probing caress. Next to me, I heard Camille let out a muffled moan, as if she had tried as hard as she could to resist the pleasure, and had finally failed.
“Let go, Camille, you naughty girl. Pee over my hand to show your submission, or I’ll whip your bottom for you,” Erik growled, close enough for me to hear the shameful command.
My face burned with secondhand embarrassment. Camille’s response came immediately, her voice trembling with a mixture of defiance and fear.
“Non! Jamais! I won’t do it, you can’t make me!” she cried out. But beneath her words, I detected a note of desperate arousal that made my own body clench in response.
Erik’s low chuckle sent shivers down my spine. “Oh, ma petite rebelle,” he purred, his accent thick with amusement and lust. “You will learn.”
The sharp crack of a whip cut through the air, followed by Camille’s agonized scream. I flinched at the sound, my body tensing in sympathetic pain. Another lash fell, and another. Camille’s cries grew more frantic with each strike, a stream of French pleas and curses pouring from her lips.
“Please, maître!” she sobbed, her voice breaking. “I can’t… I won’t…”
But even as she protested, I could hear the change in her tone. The defiance was crumbling, replaced by a desperate need to submit, to please. I knew that feeling all too well now, the conflicting desires warring within her just as they had within me.
“Let go, Camille,” Erik commanded, his voice a low growl. “Show me your submission.”
There was a moment of tense silence, broken only by Camille’s ragged breathing. Then I heard it—the soft patter of liquid hitting skin, followed by Erik’s grunt of approval.
“Good girl,” he murmured, and I could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “Now, let’s see how well you respond to reward.”
Camille’s gasp of shock quickly turned into a moan of pleasure. I could imagine Erik’s large hand cupping the little fisse he had opened on his hardness, his fingers expertly stroking and teasing as she continued to relieve herself. The wet sounds of his ministrations filled the air, mingling with Camille’s increasingly desperate whimpers.
“Oh… oh, God,” she panted, her voice thick with shame and arousal. “Please… I can’t… it’s too…”
But Erik was relentless. “You can, and you will,” he growled. “Come for me, lille en. Show everyone how much you love being my dirty little slut.”
Camille’s cries reached a fever pitch, her body clearly teetering on the edge of release. I felt my own arousal building in response, my hips grinding shamelessly against the bench beneath me.